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THE WORD CARRIER.
HEW SERIES, VOL. II. NOS. I AND II.
Helping the Right, Exposing the Wrong.
PUBLISHED FOR THE DAKOTA MISSION.
Santee . Agency, Nebraska.
MARCH-APRIL, 1885.
Fiety Cents a. Year.
Our Platform.
For Indians,:we want American
Education! We want American
Homes ! We want American Rights !
The result oe which is American
Citizenship.
The Word Carrier is published in the interest of schools and missions among the Indians. It is published for The Dakota Mission,
originally planted by the American Board in the
year 1835, in Minnesota, but now extended
over Dakota, and into Nebraska, Montana, and
the British Possessions, and carried on under
these several branches:
The American Missionary Association, (Congregational) at Santee Agency, Nebraska, and
at Oahe, Cheyenne River, Grand River, and
Fort Berthold, Dakota.
The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions,
at Yankton Agency and Flandrau, Dakota,
and at Poplar Creek, Montana.
The Presbyterian Board of Home Missions
at Sisseton Agency and Brown Earth, Dakota.
The Dakota Native Missionary Society, at
Cheyenne River and Devil's Lake, Dakota.
Santee Normal Training School, at Santee
Agency, Nebraska, is our principal school for
all this field, for higher education and normal
training. Therefore, while presenting the
progress of our missionary and educational
work in the whols field, the interests and
work of our Normal Training School will be'
made prominent.
We shall also endeavor.to give a view of the
state of the work under other missionary
societies, and under the Government. And we
cordially invite the co-operation of those who
have been our friends in the past and of all new
workers in the field.
Published monthly at 50 cents a year. Send
for it to Alfred L. Riggs, Editor and Publisher,
Santee Agency, Neb.
[Entered at the Santee Agency Postofficeas
second class matter.]
In the death of Hon. James M. Haworth, Superintendent of Indian
Schools, at Albuquerque, New Mexico,
the public service has sufferd a great
loss and the Indian a sincere friend.
We also record his sudden taking
away with a deep sense of personal
loss. Since the summer we spent together on a commission, of which Gen.
I). S. Stanley was chairman, to locate
Red Cloud's aud Spotted Tail's tribes,
sharing the same tent and bed, as we
camped out on the alkali plains of the
Great Sioux Reserve, we have felt far
more than acquaintanceship. We had
learned to love him like a brother.
And this power of attaching people
to himself by his affectionate interest
in them was characteristic of him.
When Col. Dyer, the U. S. Indian
Agent for the Cheyennes and Arrapa-
hoes, told the news of his death to the
school children of his agency they
were very much affected by it. And
so it has been with all who have known
him, whether whites or Indians.
Who shall be his successor, is the
question suddenly forced upon us.
It is a question of deepest importance.
If the Honorable Secretary of the Interior shall have the discernment to
choose the right man for the place he
can by this one act do more towards
solving the so-called Indian problem
than he can do in any and all other
ways. But if he does this he will not
select some superannuated pedagogue
from the back country districts of the
south, but he will find one who is in
the prime of life, and abreast of the
age in all that pertains to this most j
progressive art, the art of teaching
He will be one also who is' practically
familiar with the workings of the best
systems of common schools.
The Reil rebellion, over the line, in
the regions rejoicing under the benign
sway of Queen Victoria, will be of
some use in stopping the irrational
clatter abont the supreme excellence
of the English way of taking care of
their Indians. No doubt we may
learn much of them, and they of us.
But the fact is they have, or not until recently, the same conditions which
have embarrassed our treatment of the
question all along. But now it is the
same old story over again. The Government makes promises which the rapacity and cunning of its white subjects nullify. And the Indians are boldly robbed of their lands for which they
have only promises of title from the
Government. The Indians have been
outraged past endurance and will make
a pretty mess of it before they get
through. We cannot wonder they appeal to war, despairing of all other appeal. But it means their annihilation.
And then the irreproachable whites
will walk in over their dead bodies and
take possession unmolested.
An esteemed friend in Chamberlain,
Dakota, on the borders of the now noted Crow Creek Reserve, objects to the
pamphlet of the Indian Rights Association as full of misstatements, and
calculated to mislead the good friends
of the Indians in the east. We ask
him to bear in mind that the question
was suddenly sprung upon those whose
self imposed duty it is, to defend these
"wards of the Government" against
their natural protectors, the government itself. It was like repelling an
attack in the dark, and an attack made
by those who were the trusted friends
of these Indians. So it is not to be
wondered at if some expressions are
used which are blows at random.
Doubtless our friend is sensitive for
the good name of the thousands of his
white neighbors who have rushed in
and planted homes on the Indians'
ground on the strength of the President's proclamation. But he would
not dare to affirm that in the scramble for these lands the Indian occupant was not now and then terrorized
and made to abandon his rightful claim.
Nor will he affirm that tne Indian
should not have a fair opportunity to
select his farm, in case he had not already done so, before any white men
were allowed upon the reservation for
the same purpose.
We need not say anything about the
white settlers, however. The great
wrong was in the scandalous secret arrangement in the Interior Department,
by which the reserve was thrown open
without warning, or any adequate provision for protecting the rights and
homes of the Indians. It is in keeping with the anomalous character of
the whole proceeding, that there were
no counselors to be found among the
friends of the administration, or
among those who are well known
friend's of the Indian; but it was nec
essary to call in the assistance of a
democratic wire puller and third
rate politician from Dakota. There
was something essentially crooked
about the whole thing.
Sick Indians.
The expression, "as pale as a sick
African," is iu common use in the
south, and we naturally smile at its
seeming absurdity, and yet it is not a
bad comparison. But the paleness of
a sick Indian is far more deathlike than
that of the negro. When an Indian
has long been ill and is emaciated, the
raven black hair, which is often hanging loosely about the face, and the eyes,
black as night, give to the pale face a sad
weird look that goes at once to the heart.
There are few pleasant associations
in connection with the sick-room of an
Indian. Some time since I was called
to see an old woman. I found her in
a little hovel, with only six panes of
dirty glass to let out the dark. Several
beds made of dirty blankets were spread
out in the corners of the room, and a
filthy hot stove stood in the center.
Two men and a boy sat, each taking
his turn at the pipe, and the air filled
with tobacco smoke and other vile
odors. I went to the corner of the
room in which lay the old woman. A
quart cup of strong coffee sat beside
the bed, and a piece of cold boiled beef.
Of course she could take no nourishment, but it was a sign to those coming in that the patient was well used.
Her one old soiled and torn blanket
covered her head, but left the feet bare.
Uncovering the head, I started at the
sight. She was surely dead. The ashy
paleness and drawn look about the
mouth could be only death's seal. I
touched her, she opened her eyes and
murmered "water.' I turned to the
daughter and repeated the request.
She motioned at the coffee. No, I said,
not coffee, she wants water; but the
daughter replied, "There is none."
Again the old woman murmured, "I
am dying of thirst; water, water." I
spoke positively to the woman and she
went out to a neighbor's and brought
a cup of water, holding it out to the
mother. The poor, feeble hand could
not even raise itself to the cup. I said,
she can't hold it. The girl sat the cup
down and said, "I knew it was no use
to get it; she will die, she takes nothing." And then a new burden fell
upon me. I wondered how many of
these poor people literally starve to
death for want of some one to nurse
them in sickness. I raised the poor
old form in the bed and held the cup
to her lips. How eagerly she drank--
would have drained tbe cup had I not
removed it.
I went home and made a little broth
which I carried to her, and gave it to
the poor famished body in the same
way. The men and women gathered
about to see me feed the dying woman,
the men now and then exclaiming,
"Well done!" "That is right!" "White
people know everthing."
The woman did not die. The daughter learned to hold the cup to her lips,
and the son to hold her up. Poor,
awkward nurses. Their hearts were
kind, but they knew nothing what to
do. When one cannot feed herself,
she is given over to die, and no doubt
the woman would have starved to death,
| as her fever had gone and she was too
weak to hold the cup. Then I thought,
it is one woman's work to go about
among these people to try to teach
them to care for the sick and helpless "
I have found among them several men
whom I think would make good nurses,
with training, and one or two women,
but the greater part know really nothing about the care of the sick.
A mother will sit by the hour holding a crying child, crooning to it and
repeating over and over again, "I nila
yauka, I nila yauka"—"Be still with
your mouth, be still with your mouth;"
and as the child cries and moans, the
body sways to and fro, and the poor,
helpless, distracted mother offers food
to the child in vain. Her work is done;
she knows nothing more to do. I take
the child, examine the body, and perhaps find some dreadful sore which is
open, running, aud perhaps the clothing all fastened to it. Poor baby. I»
it a wonder it cries? After an hour's
work the sore is dressed and the babe
leeping. Then the mother looks upon,
me as "Wakan"—something mysterious—able to perforin miracles. After
a little she learns, when the child cries,
how to relieve the pain, though they
rarely become skillful in dressing the
sore. I have seen the very worst kind
of a scrofulous sore bound up with a
piece of dirty green blanket. In haste
I was called to see a child whom the
ghosts were pulling about in a frightful way. I got on my pony and galloped away to the house. As I neared
I found the people gathered about.
One old woman beating furiously on a
dish-pan, a man firing off a gun, and
such a noise that in a country village
one would think it what the boys call
a "charivari."
On entering the house I found the
child in a hard convulsion, its features
all distorted. They said they frightened the ghost off with the noise, but
it at once returned. I called for hot
water, poured it in a tub, and making
it cool enough to avoid scalding the
child, I at once undressed aud plunged
it in, rubbing briskly with my hand all
the limbs and back. The child recovered, and I would allow no noise—sent
all out but the parents, and remained
until I saw the child quietly sleeping.
The ghost did not return, as I found
the cause of its first visit was an over
supply of green watermelon. I forbade the luxury and the child recovered.
These old habits are strong upon
them. They are dismayed at sudden
illness. Know nothing to do, but like
the Spiritualists, at once call a medium,
which they call a "sacred man" or "sacred woman," and by all maimer of
childish foolishness try to deal with
the evil spirit,
This work of teaching the Indians
to care for the sick is a great one. I
agree with Major McLaughlin that
every Indian agency should have a hospital for the sick in connection with it.
There the sick could be cared for, and
those who were willing could be taught
the art of nursing.
How much sorrow and distress could
we drive out of the homes, and how
much of Christ's light might we let in
through the blessed medium of kindness to the sick. But that work now
must be done, in many cases, by already
overworked missionaries. The only
remedy I see for that is to multiply the
missionary families among the Indians.
Oahe, D. T. M. C. C

THE WORD CARRIER.
HEW SERIES, VOL. II. NOS. I AND II.
Helping the Right, Exposing the Wrong.
PUBLISHED FOR THE DAKOTA MISSION.
Santee . Agency, Nebraska.
MARCH-APRIL, 1885.
Fiety Cents a. Year.
Our Platform.
For Indians,:we want American
Education! We want American
Homes ! We want American Rights !
The result oe which is American
Citizenship.
The Word Carrier is published in the interest of schools and missions among the Indians. It is published for The Dakota Mission,
originally planted by the American Board in the
year 1835, in Minnesota, but now extended
over Dakota, and into Nebraska, Montana, and
the British Possessions, and carried on under
these several branches:
The American Missionary Association, (Congregational) at Santee Agency, Nebraska, and
at Oahe, Cheyenne River, Grand River, and
Fort Berthold, Dakota.
The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions,
at Yankton Agency and Flandrau, Dakota,
and at Poplar Creek, Montana.
The Presbyterian Board of Home Missions
at Sisseton Agency and Brown Earth, Dakota.
The Dakota Native Missionary Society, at
Cheyenne River and Devil's Lake, Dakota.
Santee Normal Training School, at Santee
Agency, Nebraska, is our principal school for
all this field, for higher education and normal
training. Therefore, while presenting the
progress of our missionary and educational
work in the whols field, the interests and
work of our Normal Training School will be'
made prominent.
We shall also endeavor.to give a view of the
state of the work under other missionary
societies, and under the Government. And we
cordially invite the co-operation of those who
have been our friends in the past and of all new
workers in the field.
Published monthly at 50 cents a year. Send
for it to Alfred L. Riggs, Editor and Publisher,
Santee Agency, Neb.
[Entered at the Santee Agency Postofficeas
second class matter.]
In the death of Hon. James M. Haworth, Superintendent of Indian
Schools, at Albuquerque, New Mexico,
the public service has sufferd a great
loss and the Indian a sincere friend.
We also record his sudden taking
away with a deep sense of personal
loss. Since the summer we spent together on a commission, of which Gen.
I). S. Stanley was chairman, to locate
Red Cloud's aud Spotted Tail's tribes,
sharing the same tent and bed, as we
camped out on the alkali plains of the
Great Sioux Reserve, we have felt far
more than acquaintanceship. We had
learned to love him like a brother.
And this power of attaching people
to himself by his affectionate interest
in them was characteristic of him.
When Col. Dyer, the U. S. Indian
Agent for the Cheyennes and Arrapa-
hoes, told the news of his death to the
school children of his agency they
were very much affected by it. And
so it has been with all who have known
him, whether whites or Indians.
Who shall be his successor, is the
question suddenly forced upon us.
It is a question of deepest importance.
If the Honorable Secretary of the Interior shall have the discernment to
choose the right man for the place he
can by this one act do more towards
solving the so-called Indian problem
than he can do in any and all other
ways. But if he does this he will not
select some superannuated pedagogue
from the back country districts of the
south, but he will find one who is in
the prime of life, and abreast of the
age in all that pertains to this most j
progressive art, the art of teaching
He will be one also who is' practically
familiar with the workings of the best
systems of common schools.
The Reil rebellion, over the line, in
the regions rejoicing under the benign
sway of Queen Victoria, will be of
some use in stopping the irrational
clatter abont the supreme excellence
of the English way of taking care of
their Indians. No doubt we may
learn much of them, and they of us.
But the fact is they have, or not until recently, the same conditions which
have embarrassed our treatment of the
question all along. But now it is the
same old story over again. The Government makes promises which the rapacity and cunning of its white subjects nullify. And the Indians are boldly robbed of their lands for which they
have only promises of title from the
Government. The Indians have been
outraged past endurance and will make
a pretty mess of it before they get
through. We cannot wonder they appeal to war, despairing of all other appeal. But it means their annihilation.
And then the irreproachable whites
will walk in over their dead bodies and
take possession unmolested.
An esteemed friend in Chamberlain,
Dakota, on the borders of the now noted Crow Creek Reserve, objects to the
pamphlet of the Indian Rights Association as full of misstatements, and
calculated to mislead the good friends
of the Indians in the east. We ask
him to bear in mind that the question
was suddenly sprung upon those whose
self imposed duty it is, to defend these
"wards of the Government" against
their natural protectors, the government itself. It was like repelling an
attack in the dark, and an attack made
by those who were the trusted friends
of these Indians. So it is not to be
wondered at if some expressions are
used which are blows at random.
Doubtless our friend is sensitive for
the good name of the thousands of his
white neighbors who have rushed in
and planted homes on the Indians'
ground on the strength of the President's proclamation. But he would
not dare to affirm that in the scramble for these lands the Indian occupant was not now and then terrorized
and made to abandon his rightful claim.
Nor will he affirm that tne Indian
should not have a fair opportunity to
select his farm, in case he had not already done so, before any white men
were allowed upon the reservation for
the same purpose.
We need not say anything about the
white settlers, however. The great
wrong was in the scandalous secret arrangement in the Interior Department,
by which the reserve was thrown open
without warning, or any adequate provision for protecting the rights and
homes of the Indians. It is in keeping with the anomalous character of
the whole proceeding, that there were
no counselors to be found among the
friends of the administration, or
among those who are well known
friend's of the Indian; but it was nec
essary to call in the assistance of a
democratic wire puller and third
rate politician from Dakota. There
was something essentially crooked
about the whole thing.
Sick Indians.
The expression, "as pale as a sick
African," is iu common use in the
south, and we naturally smile at its
seeming absurdity, and yet it is not a
bad comparison. But the paleness of
a sick Indian is far more deathlike than
that of the negro. When an Indian
has long been ill and is emaciated, the
raven black hair, which is often hanging loosely about the face, and the eyes,
black as night, give to the pale face a sad
weird look that goes at once to the heart.
There are few pleasant associations
in connection with the sick-room of an
Indian. Some time since I was called
to see an old woman. I found her in
a little hovel, with only six panes of
dirty glass to let out the dark. Several
beds made of dirty blankets were spread
out in the corners of the room, and a
filthy hot stove stood in the center.
Two men and a boy sat, each taking
his turn at the pipe, and the air filled
with tobacco smoke and other vile
odors. I went to the corner of the
room in which lay the old woman. A
quart cup of strong coffee sat beside
the bed, and a piece of cold boiled beef.
Of course she could take no nourishment, but it was a sign to those coming in that the patient was well used.
Her one old soiled and torn blanket
covered her head, but left the feet bare.
Uncovering the head, I started at the
sight. She was surely dead. The ashy
paleness and drawn look about the
mouth could be only death's seal. I
touched her, she opened her eyes and
murmered "water.' I turned to the
daughter and repeated the request.
She motioned at the coffee. No, I said,
not coffee, she wants water; but the
daughter replied, "There is none."
Again the old woman murmured, "I
am dying of thirst; water, water." I
spoke positively to the woman and she
went out to a neighbor's and brought
a cup of water, holding it out to the
mother. The poor, feeble hand could
not even raise itself to the cup. I said,
she can't hold it. The girl sat the cup
down and said, "I knew it was no use
to get it; she will die, she takes nothing." And then a new burden fell
upon me. I wondered how many of
these poor people literally starve to
death for want of some one to nurse
them in sickness. I raised the poor
old form in the bed and held the cup
to her lips. How eagerly she drank--
would have drained tbe cup had I not
removed it.
I went home and made a little broth
which I carried to her, and gave it to
the poor famished body in the same
way. The men and women gathered
about to see me feed the dying woman,
the men now and then exclaiming,
"Well done!" "That is right!" "White
people know everthing."
The woman did not die. The daughter learned to hold the cup to her lips,
and the son to hold her up. Poor,
awkward nurses. Their hearts were
kind, but they knew nothing what to
do. When one cannot feed herself,
she is given over to die, and no doubt
the woman would have starved to death,
| as her fever had gone and she was too
weak to hold the cup. Then I thought,
it is one woman's work to go about
among these people to try to teach
them to care for the sick and helpless "
I have found among them several men
whom I think would make good nurses,
with training, and one or two women,
but the greater part know really nothing about the care of the sick.
A mother will sit by the hour holding a crying child, crooning to it and
repeating over and over again, "I nila
yauka, I nila yauka"—"Be still with
your mouth, be still with your mouth;"
and as the child cries and moans, the
body sways to and fro, and the poor,
helpless, distracted mother offers food
to the child in vain. Her work is done;
she knows nothing more to do. I take
the child, examine the body, and perhaps find some dreadful sore which is
open, running, aud perhaps the clothing all fastened to it. Poor baby. I»
it a wonder it cries? After an hour's
work the sore is dressed and the babe
leeping. Then the mother looks upon,
me as "Wakan"—something mysterious—able to perforin miracles. After
a little she learns, when the child cries,
how to relieve the pain, though they
rarely become skillful in dressing the
sore. I have seen the very worst kind
of a scrofulous sore bound up with a
piece of dirty green blanket. In haste
I was called to see a child whom the
ghosts were pulling about in a frightful way. I got on my pony and galloped away to the house. As I neared
I found the people gathered about.
One old woman beating furiously on a
dish-pan, a man firing off a gun, and
such a noise that in a country village
one would think it what the boys call
a "charivari."
On entering the house I found the
child in a hard convulsion, its features
all distorted. They said they frightened the ghost off with the noise, but
it at once returned. I called for hot
water, poured it in a tub, and making
it cool enough to avoid scalding the
child, I at once undressed aud plunged
it in, rubbing briskly with my hand all
the limbs and back. The child recovered, and I would allow no noise—sent
all out but the parents, and remained
until I saw the child quietly sleeping.
The ghost did not return, as I found
the cause of its first visit was an over
supply of green watermelon. I forbade the luxury and the child recovered.
These old habits are strong upon
them. They are dismayed at sudden
illness. Know nothing to do, but like
the Spiritualists, at once call a medium,
which they call a "sacred man" or "sacred woman," and by all maimer of
childish foolishness try to deal with
the evil spirit,
This work of teaching the Indians
to care for the sick is a great one. I
agree with Major McLaughlin that
every Indian agency should have a hospital for the sick in connection with it.
There the sick could be cared for, and
those who were willing could be taught
the art of nursing.
How much sorrow and distress could
we drive out of the homes, and how
much of Christ's light might we let in
through the blessed medium of kindness to the sick. But that work now
must be done, in many cases, by already
overworked missionaries. The only
remedy I see for that is to multiply the
missionary families among the Indians.
Oahe, D. T. M. C. C